Cleanliness is next to ... well, it's a Good Thing

Published 4:00 am, Wednesday, July 4, 2007

At a friend's birthday gathering recently, the conversation turned to housecleaning.

"Oh, I never clean," one woman said. "I don't have time, and it's not that important."

Another stated proudly, "My mom pays for a cleaning person to come in because I just can't be bothered and she can't stand it that I'm so messy."

The majority of the mostly women at the party laughingly agreed: They had no time to clean; it wasn't a priority; they had much better things to do than stay home scrubbing the bathroom sink.

I stayed quiet. I didn't mention the hardwood floors I'd just mopped with my all-time favorite, Murphy's wood oil soap. Nor did I reveal that I was actually contemplating making my own cleaning solutions from essential oils and lavender soap.

These ladies would not be interested. But their careless attitude toward housekeeping intrigued me.

Housekeeping, once so integral to women's lives, has fallen out of vogue, especially among women of my generation. We are not supposed to admit that keeping a clean house is something to feel good about -- it is, in fact, a decidedly unhip occupation.

When I was growing up, the sound of the vacuum cleaner lulled me to sleep. My mother usually waited until my brother and I were in bed to perform her nightly ritual, and I still associate the sound with feelings of comfort.

Cleanliness, in that house, was next to godliness -- or at least, for us non-churchgoers, it was highly valued. We were taught to hang the towels neatly after our baths, and quickly learned that leaving dirt on the bar of soap was a serious offense.

Though I sometimes felt annoyed when I was asked to clean up dirt I'd inadvertently tracked in, I could see the pride my parents took in maintaining a clean house. I learned to respect that.

It resonated with me in ways I truly realized only once I moved out of their house and into a succession of dorm rooms and group houses. During my last year of college, I lived with seven other people, and my emerging fastidiousness was sorely tested. One of my roommates hated cleaning so much that she took a carful of her dirty dishes to a friend's apartment to run through her dishwasher. (Ours had broken early on in our lease, perhaps from lack of use.)

I was appalled. I could not imagine letting my mess get to the point where I had to push it off on someone else. I was the main cleaner in that household, and I think my roommates felt guilty when they saw me vacuuming the -- usually filthy -- living room they had promised yet again to do. They would get irritated with me and acted as though I was being unreasonable to insist on a basic standard of cleanliness. They thought I was trying to make them feel bad. In truth, I felt compelled.

When I finally got my own apartment after years of living with roommates, I breathed a sigh of relief. Taking good care of it became a source of accomplishment and pride.

Our homes are our castles, yes, but they are also our havens. Whether we own or rent, whether we reside in a spacious house or a one-room apartment, what is contained within our private walls is our sacred space.

Feeling good about where we live is important to our mental and emotional health; I know that when I have cleaned my apartment well, I feel soothed and relaxed. The very acts of scrubbing and sweeping make me feel ordered and productive after a hectic day at work.

But sometimes I worry that my desire to clean is equivalent to turning my back on feminism. Am I pushing myself back into the stereotypical role of a housewife, though I'm not married, through my domestic pursuits? Am I too stuck-up? Am I becoming too Martha?

Actually, maybe we should look at Martha Stewart, her legal woes aside, as an example of the modern woman. She respects and celebrates the domestic arts of cooking and keeping house, yet she is also a businesswoman. She shows us that being one does not necessarily negate the other; it is possible to have both a career and a well-ordered home life. Her magazine, and others such as Real Simple, suggest that keeping a clean home is to be praised rather than denigrated.

I don't want to sacrifice a fun outing because I "should" stay home and clean, but I also don't want to go too far in the other direction. I'd like to be all right with occasionally letting the dishes sit overnight, but I don't want to let it become a habit.

I think it comes down to being OK with myself. If I can look in the mirror and like who I am, I feel good. And who I am can very well be someone who puts in a long, productive day at work, meets a friend for a drink and then goes home afterward to tear through her apartment on a cleaning spree. As with everything in life -- we've just got to find the balance.